Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword Classically Retold
by Sharpknife
Summary: Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword, as experienced by Amberyl the tactician. This tale will use game dialogue/supports (eventually), and thus will adhere to the plot pretty darn closely (I have contrived/will strive to explain away the video game-esque plot points to the best of my ability). M for not-too-terribly explicit violence and eventual non-explicit romance.
1. Prologue: A Girl from the Plains

**Quick Intro**

Welcome to my spin on FE:7. I've always loved the game, and it sort of birthed my First Love and original character, Amberyl. I promise she's not a Mary Sue. Maybe a Mary Tzu, but that's kind of necessary.

I don't promise a strong update schedule (because "life"), but I'll publish more eventually. Mainly because I've been working on one version or another of this telling for years *shamefacedly* and I figure that sharing it will only encourage me.

I hope :l

Anyway. Enjoy.

* * *

Amberyl had overslept. Sunlight filtered through a covered window, illuminating the small room with a warm red glow. Amberyl squinted unfocused eyes against this too-bright intrusion, wondering what happened the night before to make her feel like she went on a week-long drinking spree. That was supposing that she hadn't actually gone on a week-long drinking spree.

"Are you awake?"

The words echoed in Amberyl's head. She groaned, covering her ears while she searched for the speaker. Saints, she was dizzy.

"What happened?" She slurred. Oh, great. Maybe it _was_ one of those days. She would get a royal chewing back at the citadel, but it was nice to know her situation was nothing if not mundane.

"I found you unconscious on the plains." A beautiful face swam into view, a strong female countenance with bright eyes and a distinctly Sacaen mien. Definitely not a face Amberyl recognized. She blinked slowly as the Sacaen woman leaned over her. "I am Lyn, of the Lorca tribe. You're safe now."

"Err." Amberyl took a moment to digest the incredible claim. Her gaze skittered sideways, taking in the bright tapestries that didn't quite obscure the latticework frame which gave the room its circular shape. That seemed… oddly in line with a nomadic ger.

"Who are you?" Lyn asked.

Amberyl raised herself to her elbows, suddenly and dreadfully uneasy. She promptly sank back to her pillow when the world exploded into a picture pallet of multi-shaded reds. It took several moments for the pounding in her head to subside so that Amberyl could form a coherent thought. _What an amazing thing_. Amberyl began to suspect that she had bumped her head. Hard. She searched her hair with her fingers and was unsurprised to find a heavy swath of bandages.

"That explains things." Only it didn't really. It explained why there _was_ no explanation. Not one she could recall, anyway. Amberyl glanced around the room again, searching for some clue that might enlighten her as to what she was doing on the nomadic plains of Sacae. An ornate chest and some richly crafted furniture gave her nothing to work with.

The nomad would not be deterred. "Can you remember your name?" she pressed. Amberyl brought her eyes back to Lyn and tried to look… pitiful? Wary? Thankful? Ugh. She was utterly unprepared for this interaction. The faintest crease appeared between Lyn's brows as Amberyl hesitated to respond. _Get a grip. This is Sacae, not Ositia_, Amberyl berated herself.

"Amberyl." Short and clipped, enough to make her sound like a wary wanderer. The defensive type who was suspicious of nosy rescuers. That was a story Amberyl could live with.

"Your name is Amberyl?" Lyn repeated, her brows raising. Her eyes grew thoughtful. "What an odd sounding name."

"Well, excuse me for being odd," Amberyl sniffed, only it came out as more of a painful wheeze as she made a second attempt to sit up. Two strong hands support her along the way. The sights and sounds of the world dimmed, but this time Amberyl grit her teeth and pushed through it.

"But pay me no mind," Lyn said. "It is a good name."

Amberyl held her silence, hoping Lyn would give her something more with which to fabricate a good story. Then she frowned, having just confused herself. Why would she need a good story? And she'd had that same thought a moment before, as well.

"I see by your attire that you're a traveler. What brings you to the Sacae Plains? Would you share your story with me?"

"My story?" Amberyl repeated dully, sounded disoriented even to her own ears. Her thoughts were slippery, like little fishes that slithered around underwater with zero interest in listening to her internal commands to shape up and sit still so she could use them. _Fish? I try to sort out my thoughts, and I get fish? _"Hang on. I… I'm dizzy."

"Okay." Lyn sat back, patient. She politely decided not to press, but she didn't go anywhere, either. Instead, she poured Amberyl a cup of water, crossed the small room to a hand-crafted wooden chair and began to sew. It looked like she was resuming a project Amberyl's awakening had interrupted. Amberyl had the distinct impression that this Lyn had either been tasked to watch her for some reason, or she simply had nothing better to do than patch some cloth while Amberyl sat in silence. _What would you prefer, an armed interrogation?_ Amberyl flicked that thought away to pursue the more important task of exploring what events she could leading up to her present situation.

She sipped her water quietly while bringing her thoughts to bear. _Head trauma, memory loss, Sacaen Plains_. That pretty much summed it up, but Amberyl couldn't begin to put together a plan of action with which to proceed from that point. It was time to ask a few questions of her own. She raised her head, feeling much more in control of her vertigo. Lyn's fingers flicked with experience over the colorful cloth in her lap, her brow gently furrowed in concentration. Amberyl opened her mouth to speak when she noticed a long, curved sword propped up in its sheathe against the chest by Lyn's chair.

"Great."

"Pardon?" Lyn's eyes came up, and the needlework went down.

Amberyl shook her head and bent her head over her cup, conscious not to look at the sword again. Dare she reveal that she had no memory of how she got here? Was Lyn a danger to her? Amberyl didn't get that impression from the bright eyes or the sincerity of her concern, but then, she had a concussion. Maybe she shouldn't be trusting her instincts for sound judgment just yet. Amberyl drummed her fingers around her cup, studying it's now empty state. Speaking of thoughtless decisions, she hadn't even considered the possibility that what she'd just consumed hadn't been pure water. Amberyl sighed, a mounting pressure building somewhere in the region between her eyes.

"I can't remember how I got here."

Lyn blinked, then leaned back with a small 'oh' shape to her lips.

"You did look like you took a nasty blow to the head," Lyn said. "Although I can't imagine how. Yours were the only tracks I saw, and there weren't even any rocks to fall on."

"That's just my luck. I think." Amberyl gripped the cup in her hands more tightly. Okay, so she couldn't remember getting hit. And she couldn't remember riding or walking out to the plains for any reason, business or otherwise. But she should be able to remember something from before then. Amberyl thought back to... hmm. Midnight under a new moon, apparently. _It can't all be gone_, she thought with a sinking feeling. Yet the more she concentrated on backtracking her memories, the more they skittered out of her reach. Significant events seemed sure of their place, right up until she reached for their recollection. Then they fizzled. Panic quickened Amberyl's pulse, causing her head to start to ache.

"Calm down. It's not all gone. You still know how to talk."

"I'm sorry?" Lyn asked, puzzled.

"Nothing. I have a habit of talking to myself when I start to get nervous." Amberyl paused. "Apparently."

"Am I making you nervous?"

"Yes," Amberyl admitted, realizing she had no idea what to do. She looked helplessly at Lyn. "You have a sword. I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't... I don't remember anything."

"So you said," Lyn tilted her head.

"But I mean I _really _don't remember anything. Like where I came from, or whether I have any brothers or sisters. Oh, Saints. It _is_ all gone. Mother, I - It wasn't when I woke up. I knew my name." A detached part of her recognized that her voice was rising into a shrill register. She was babbling. "I said my name was Amberyl. I - I... I think I'm going to be sick." Amberyl lurched from the bed, looking for some place better to deposit the contents of her stomach than her own lap. Or Lyn's floor, for that matter. No need to be rude.

Lyn intercepted Amberyl as she nearly tumbled head long into the wall. "Let's get you outside," she said calmly.

"Please." Despite overwhelming nausea and dizziness, Amberyl did not vomit up her lunch. Or breakfast, as the case may have been. Which meant, she realized as she wiped at her mouth where little dribbles of saliva and snot dripped down from repeated _attempts_ at vomiting, that she couldn't even use that as a hint. She began to laugh weakly.

"This is really happening." Amberyl turned in a circle. Endless grass hills rolled out before her in waving green strands blown sharply by the wind, covering the earth for every step between her and the nearby trees, far-off trees, and one shape that could have been a nomadic gers like Lyn's. What on earth was she _doing _out here? And then, when her teeth began to chatter, what on earth was she doing out _here_? She looked down to discover she was wearing - well, a long shirt. A long shirt that could be called a dress, if one allowed for night-dresses to be added to the equation.

"It's cold," she observed brilliantly.

"Your clothes had blood on them," Lyn explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not in that case." Satisfied that she wasn't going to vomit, Amberyl retraced her steps to enter the shelter of Lyn's little hut. Lyn began to follow, but hesitated at the door.

"What was that noise?"

Amberyl hear nothing, but then she was still distracted by the apparent deletion of her life. And three minutes of kind-of dry heaving. "I didn't hear anything."

Lyn shook her head. "I'll go see what's happening. Amberyl, wait here for me."

Amberyl sat on the edge of the bed, considering tucking back under the covers. Maybe if she went back to sleep, and tried waking up the normal way instead of the she-went-to-bed-with-a-bump-on-her-head kind of way, this whole situation would clear up. Or go away. Wishful thinking, she sighed. Deciding to sit and wait as Lyn directed, Amberyl cast her eyes around the room for her cloak at least, folding her arms across her breasts with her hands tucked against her sides. Oh, boy. If she rocked, she could bring back the nausea. "Hurray, me."

"Bandits!"

Amberyl whipped her head up, raising her hands to ward off the shock. Had she started to doze off? Oh - Any memories? No? _Curses_.

"They must have come down from the Bern Mountains! They must be planning on raiding the local villages!" Lyn took two hurried steps in one direction, then changed her mind and backtracked the opposite way before taking a calming breath and standing still. Her eyes closed briefly, and when they opened they focused on her sword by the door. "I... I have to stop them! If that's all of them, I think I can handle them on my own." She turned to Amberyl. "You'll be safe in here, Amberyl."

"Safe? What?" Lyn was going to run outside and fight bandits? That sounded like a singularly terrible idea. She couldn't have been any older than Amberyl herself, which meant it was highly unlikely she had the years of battle experience that crafted the heroes of legend. She might be competent, even dangerous, but Amberyl wouldn't care to bet on a single swordsman against a multitude of bandits unless she was a no-kidding swordmaster. "You can't go out there alone."

"What? You want to help?"

"Ehm." she and Lyn were thinking on different wave-lengths. She didn't want _either _of them going out there. But could she stop Lyn? There was a fire in the nomad girl's eyes that Amberyl recognized. Lyn was already committed. Amberyl gave herself a mental shake. How could she know that? She found herself frowning. If Amberyl looked closely, she could read Lyn's body language like a book. Rigid posture, a white-knuckled grip on the handle of her sword, the sheathe of which now hung secured by a belt at her waist. From the pull of her brow and the quick pace of her breath to the nervous jitter that suddenly infected one finger on her left hand, everything about the nomad screamed "Battle!" Lyn might not be eager to fight the bandits, but she was determined to do so to the last.

"Yes. I want to help," Amberyl found herself saying. _For some reason I don't understand_, she added silently.

"Well," Lyn seemed skeptical. "Can you use a weapon?"

"I don't know," Amberyl admitted. "I could definitely hold one and look like I knew how to use it, though. That could at least draw some of the attention from you."

"That's a horrible idea," Lyn breathed. "You'd get cut down."

"No, I'd run away. It's a flawless plan." Amberyl hatched upon an idea. "And I can plan. I might not be a blade master, but I can think of strategies in a pinch." A bold-faced lie - or at least an unconfirmed truth - but somehow Amberyl didn't think Lyn was going to let her accompany her outside unless she pitched her story just right. Not when she was lying comatose in Lyn's bed for ten minutes ago. Now, why she was trying to follow Lyn outside to fight bandits in the first place was another mystery. _Because she's taking care of you when you're as vulnerable as you've ever been_.

"Something you've remembered?" Lyn asked.

"Something I know. Now if you have my cloths..."

Lyn glanced at her and laughed, quickly retrieving Amberyl's personal artifacts. "I think you'd be more distracting if you just wore that," Lyn countered.

"Your flattery will get you nowhere, I'm far too practical. I think." Amberyl donned her leggings and boots in record time, and flung her cloak around her shoulders. She was all earthen tones for this sortie, she noticed. That would be good for getting away, if she had to hide. In all that endless expanse of green, green grass. _Nevermind_.

Lyn held out a belt and dagger for Amberyl's acceptance. For a brief moment, Amberyl wondered where the nomad had come across the six inch blade, it's mahogany handle emblazoned with an unknown crest. Then she realized that the knife must actually belong to her. Amberyl sighed as she strapped the belt around her hips with distant familiarity, slipping the dagger into a hard leather sheathe that now rested on her hip. No wonder Lyn still had to ask if she could use a weapon. A knife like this was more a fashion accessory than anything. Amberyl paused, considering herself.

"Well. I do have good taste."

"Are you ready?"

"If I said 'no', do we get to stay inside?"

Lyn's eyes slid upward to the bandage wrapped around Amberyl's head. No doubt she was already considering the folly of bringing her along. Amberyl didn't have to make it worse by suggesting she didn't want to go. Only, she didn't really want to. _But you will anyway, for a perfect stranger_. Was this really who she was? How was she not dead yet? Amberyl shook her head to clear the thought before she gave herself an ache. "Sorry, just injecting some levity. Let's ride."

"We're not riding."

"It's an expression, Lyn."

* * *

"If you want to help, Amberyl, I could use your advice." Lyn's long strides carried her across the open hills quickly as the two of them jogged away from the safety of her hut. Amberyl found that she could keep pace with Lyn easily enough, though she couldn't match Lyn's loping gait and used at least twice as many steps to cover the same amount of ground. "I'll protect you, so stay close to me."

"I think I can manage that." As long as she was going to do something as foolish as run towards a group of armed brigands, it was probably a wise decision to stay next to the girl with the sword. "You're confident in your swordsmanship, I hope?"

"Yes." Lyn said simply.

Hmm. Perhaps an open ended question would have been a better choice of inquiry. Not that there was time to _do_ anything with that information, were it forthcoming. In fact, Amberyl's reason for coming along as a planner - a tactician, really - fell flat considering it was just her and Lyn against an unknown number of bandits in an open field. Maybe if she had more than one unit to command, she could justify her presence on the field of battle. Or if there was some terrain other than open grassland that they could use to their advantage.

"But there is," Amberyl muttered. She raised her voice to combat the wind. "Lyn, let's head north towards the trees." Amberyl pointed towards the tree line some distance away. "If we can draw some of the bandits in there, that'd be much better than facing them in an open field where we could get surrounded, don't you think?"

"Some of?" Lyn repeated, though she did angle towards the trees instead of the huts. "I hope there aren't that many. I only saw two. I don't think I could take many more by myself."

"Just two?" Amberyl felt a rush of relief, despite Lyn's disclaimer that there might be more. In the back of her mind, Amberyl had been imagining hordes of filthy axemen, the likes of which she was disinclined to meet so ill prepared. Two bandits was a problem she felt she could hold in both hands. Even four wouldn't be so bad, but that was pushing it. "And who's by herself? I'm not chopped liver."

"Sorry."

Since part of this plan involved being spotted and chased into the trees, Amberyl searched the horizon for likely suspects for her hastily conceived trap. She spotted one burly looking fellow eyeing them from several hundred feet away, and another loitering twice that distance by the small ger Amberyl had noticed earlier.

Hmm. These nomad types must not like company that much. It occurred to Amberyl that Lyn's little living space was in no way near or adjacent to any other civilization. That dot of a hut in the distance was literally the nearest sign of habitation, and the only one that Amberyl could see. _What on earth was I doing out in this empty plain?_ Then, after a heartbeat, _And what on earth is Lyn?_

Those two bandits tallied with the two that Lyn had seen, and unless there was a nearby rabbit hole large enough to conceal a man, something Amberyl berated herself for even considering, they were all she and Lyn had to contend with. The first man appeared to be a lookout, standing watch to ensure that no young nomad girls with swords and amnesiac companions snuck up on his cohorts to thwart their looting, no doubt. That, or he'd fallen behind his comrade on their trip to ransack Lyn's neighbor. He eyed them with an intensity Amberyl could feel despite distance between them.

the lookout's apparent reluctance to leave his post gave Amberyl and Lyn a few minutes to work with, but would ultimately thwart their plan entirely if it prevented him from chasing them. little good it would do anyone if she and Lyn didn't fight the bandits until after they completed their plundering.

"Wait up, Lyn." Amberyl veered towards the bandit for several steps, planted her heel and spun around. "Come on, you big ape! Come and get me!" she called over her shoulder as she waggled her butt at him. She doubted if he'd be able to hear her taunt, but the message behind her visual aid would have been clear over even a much greater distance. She waved cheerfully at his confusion and hurried after Lyn, who had paused to let her catch up.

"I think that worked." Lyn sounded surprised. And so it had. The bandit lurched in their direction, bellowing something lost to the wind. It was a miracle Lyn had heard anything to warn her of the bandit attack in the first place, Amberyl decided.

They hit the tree line, and Amberyl immediately bent over double and sucked in deep breaths to combat an encroaching dizziness. Lyn glanced over at her.

"I should have drank more water," Amberyl panted, stumbling further into the trees. She was probably severely dehydrated from bleeding, she realized. Head wounds were always the vilest of bleeders, and she had given herself no time to recover. Suddenly, running away from bandits as her first line of defense seemed like an ill-conceived plan. Her head was starting to pound in time with her heartbeat. The problem with dehydration, Amberyl decided, was that the first few minutes of exertion deceived you into thinking you were okay. _Then it hits you like a brick wall_. And then, _Why do I know that? Is there some sort of rule that only allows me to remember useless information?_

"Lyn, I'm going to rely on you to take care of this guy while I try not to pass out, okay?"

"Rest," Lyn instructed her firmly. "This was my task from the start."

Amberyl nodded, and found a thick trunk to hide behind. Reluctant to leave Lyn completely alone, she chose one close enough where she could dash in at any time to give the bandit a nasty surprise if he wasn't prepared. But then, since he'd seen them both she couldn't expect a sneak attack to work. Perhaps she should find some rocks to throw as distractions. The kind of distraction that could leave a person amnesiac, even. Bludgeoning someone else into memory loss seemed like a good way to vent her own frustration, and a bandit would be the perfect choice for guilt-free victimization.

One hulking, burly bandit crashed into the underbrush moments later. He was huge, but girthy. Amberyl's fear receded when she considered Lyn's lithe form and quick steps. The bandit brandished a large axe and began to stalk the trees, muttering to himself. He must suspect he'd walked into a trap. any intelligent person would have known that right from Amberyl's taunting, but this man was apparently not graced with excessive smarts.

Lyn's attack wasn't immediate, but when it came it flashed like lightning. Lyn sprang from a shadow, ducking beneath the bandit's axe to attack his chest. The man collapsed instantly, a quiet grunt marking his passage from this world to the next. Amberyl blinked as she watched him slump lifeless to the earth.

Saints, she just helped plan that man's death. Amberyl felt a surge of dizziness.

"Amberyl? it's safe to come out now." Lyn wiped her sword clean on the back of the bandit's tunic. Amberyl hesitated, pressing her forehead against the bark of her hiding tree while she gathered herself. Was it just light headedness making her feel nauseous, or was that what happened when you participated in killing someone? And if she was affected, saints only knew how Lyn felt.

"I'm here." Amberyl swept from her hiding place and made her way towards Lyn. She peered intently at Lyn's face as she approached. "are you okay?"

"me?" Lyn seemed surprised. she glanced at the body at her feet. "Yes, of course. Seeking the trees for cover was an excellent idea."

Amberyl shook her head - then pressed at her temples to suppress the resulting headache. "That's not what I meant."

Lyn seemed to understand Amberyl's concern. a shadow passed briefly over her face, but she reached out to touch Amberyl's arm. "I'm fine. I..." Lyn trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished, then led them out of the trees and toward the other bandit. "We'll talk after we settle this."

"Okay." Amberyl trotted after her. "If you're sure."

As the ger drew closer, the remaining bandit's scowling face came into definition. he would have seen his friend chase them into the trees, and there was little ambiguity about their reemergence and his disappearing. Amberyl sidled up behind Lyn, feeling light headed and winded, despite Lyn's slowing their pace as they crossed the plains from the distant trees.

"Do you see anyone besides the bad guy?"

"No. They must be hiding."

"Maybe." Amberyl didn't like the thought of someone hiding away, forcing Lyn to rescue them. What would they have done if Lyn never noticed the bandits? Sit back and let the ransacking happen? Maybe they're out hunting, Amberyl thought. That would fit with a nomadic society. Or maybe the occupant was already hurt, or was too young to fight, or was a pregnant mother. Oh, the possibilities were endless.

"Who do you think you are?" the bandit's voice was filled with rage.

Amberyl started. For some reason, she hadn't expected to engage in rational speech with the enemy. It made him seem... human.

"You think you can stand up to Batta the Beast?"

Amberyl looked at Lyn. She was a slight figure in comparison to the axe-toting villain she was about to duel. but there was confidence in her stance, and she didn't bat an eyelash before her response.

"Leave these people alone, and never come back. If you go now, I will let you live."

Batta the Beast threw back his head with a shout of laughter, then flung himself forward to attack. It was then that Amberyl realized she had come much too close to this fight for comfort. There was no cover this time, and she suddenly doubted her ability to outrun this savage man. Especially when her first backpedalling steps failed to keep pace with her flailing upper body, and she tumbled head over heels backwards in the grass.

When she righted herself, she discovered that Lyn and the bandit had switched places. Lyn was farther away, and Batta the Beast stood between them. She panicked until she saw that Batta sported a stream of blood over his thigh issuing from his chest. Then she cried out in horror to see Lyn staggering back with her left arm clinched against her body, the same crimson liquid dripping from the tips of her fingers. Lyn looked stunned.

"Lyn!" Amberyl scrambled to her feet, her fingers searching for the dagger at her hip. Batta ignored her, stepping towards Lyn with the intent to finish what he'd started. The dagger left Amberyl's hands before she realized what she was doing. it sailed through the air and struck the bandit pommel first in the center of his back. Surprised, he turned and glanced at the dagger on the ground. Amberyl could determine the precise moment when he categorized her as a threat and decided to get rid of her first.

"Stay where you are," she warned, pitching her hand back as if to throw another knife. the bandit flinched, but quickly realized her bluff. he growled something uncomplimentary and advanced.

The thought that Amberyl, now unarmed, was perhaps not his most dangerous opponent penetrated his mind too late. Lyn's sword flashed through Batta's neck as he craned his head around to find her. Lifeless, Batta the beast dropped to the earth.

Amberyl briefly considered dissolving into a girly puddle of hiccups and sobs. Then she remembered that Lyn was bleeding, and promised herself she would do that later.

"Are you hurt?" she asked stupidly. "Of course you are. You're bleeding. Let me see. Do you have bandages in your house? Of course you do, I'm wearing one on my head. But this house is closer. We'll ask them for some. Okay. Alright." Amberyl forced herself to take a breath. Lyn, bending over the fallen bandit's body, retrieved Amberyl's dagger and handed it to her with a small smile. She didn't seem overly concerned that her arm was dripping rivulets of blood into the grass. Amberyl couldn't relate.

"Good work, Amberyl." Lyn said tiredly. "Let's go home."

"Yes." Hic. "Let's." but not before she ransacked the - unoccupied - ger for some bandaging cloth.

* * *

"Good morning, Amberyl!" Lyn's lifted Amberyl from that pleasant place where she wasn't quite asleep, but hadn't fully woken up. "Are you awake yet?"

"No. Wait, yes." the smell of simmering stew changed her mind. She rolled halfway off the bed before she ran out of energy and draped limply over the side. "Ugh."

"The fight yesterday must have taken a lot out of you," Lyn teased. She lifted the pot away from its flame and set it down to cool.

"For some unimaginable reason, it did," Amberyl murmured. She had all but collapsed onto the bed after setting foot inside Lyn's home.

Amberyl propped her head up to watch the graceful nomad. A thin bandage wrap covered Lyn's upper arm, but her movements seemed unhindered as she flitted around completing her morning chores. Amberyl was impressed with the way she shrugged off an axe bite like it was nothing. It had been a near miss, the type of laceration that was made when a pointed object dragged deeply across the skin. Not a smooth slice, but more of a ragged cut. Still, the generous application of vulnery salve she'd smoothed over the wound would have made quick work of its recovery. She hadn't realized Lyn had been carrying some when they'd left, and the knowledge of the healing salve was thankfully something that hadn't been lost to her.

That being said, Amberyl was even more impressed that Lyn seemed unaffected by her entire life-threatening experience yesterday altogether. "You did all the fighting. I just tagged along."

Lyn smiled in response, but her look grew pensive. She retrieved two bowls and dished a serving of the delicious looking stew for each of them. Amberyl fell upon hers with all the enthusiasm of a woman deprived of supper the night before. in fact, this may have been the first meal she'd had in days, Amberyl reflected. Her dry heaving left an impression.

"Say, Amberyl," Lyn began slowly, her bowl untouched. She turned her clear eyes on Amberyl, the pensive haze now gone. Amberyl paused her spoon, clueing in on the fact that Lyn was about to say something important.

"I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure," Amberyl said hesitantly. She hardly knew this nomad, and Lyn hardly knew her. What could this possibly be about?

"You have some experience in the ways of ware, I can see. Would you allow me to travel with you?"

Amberyl's lips, opened in preparation to contradict the first part of Lyn's statement, remained parted in surprise.

"Travel with me?" She repeated. "What about your parents, your family?" Amberyl meant to ask the question to give herself a moment to think, but she had been wondering where the rest of Lyn's tribe was since she'd seen the empty grassland surrounding Lyn's home yesterday. "Surely you have someone else to discuss this with first?"

"What?" Lyn blinked. "You... you want me to get permission from my parents?"

"Well, no, I..." Amberyl trailed off. Repeated back to her, the idea sounded silly. But was Lyn really contemplating leaving her people, her family, on a whim? With someone she didn't even know, whose destination neither she nor Amberyl herself decided? Amberyl's eyes narrowed and her understanding clicked at the same moment Lyn's face fell.

"My mother and my father... died six months ago," Lyn said, confirming Amberyl's suspicion, and she felt a well of sympathy rise up for the nomad girl.

"My people - the Lorca - they don't..." Lyn took a ragged breath, overwhelmed with remembered emotion. "I'm the last of my tribe."

Amberyl inhaled quietly. Lyn had been surviving alone on the plains for six months, with bandits roving unchecked through its expanse? She was surprised Lyn had even survived.

Lyn continued in a low voice, her eyes distant as she was drawn into memory. "Bandits attacked, and... They killed so many people. The tribe was scattered. My father was our chieftain, and I wanted to protect our people. But I'm so young, and our people were old-fashioned." Lyn's hands curled into fists. She lifted her face to the ceiling, and Amberyl wasn't sure the next words were addressed to her.

"They wouldn't follow a woman. No one would follow me."

She fell silent, tears now trailing down the sides of her upturned face to run along her chin. Amberyl felt frozen. Lyn had just shared the type of experience that was too painful to hold onto, but too precious to let go. She wasn't entirely sure what to do. Eventually, she reached across the intervening space to put her hand over Lyn's. Lyn started, surprised. She wiped her face, sniffing.

"I'm sorry. I've been alone for so long." She turned her hand so Amberyl's fingers rested in her palm and trapped them there gently. Her other hand covered her eyes.

"No. No more. I will shed no more tears."

Amberyl looked at Lyn's hidden face, then her own trapped hand. And then as the silence stretched, she found her gaze wandering, perhaps insensitively, to her stew. She pinched herself by way of punishment.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that alone, Lyn," Amberyl said.

"Thank you." Lyn said simply, uncovering her face. "I'm better now." True to her word, her tears had stopped. She did look a little bit red-eyed, though, but Amberyl wasn't going to say anything.

"Amberyl, I want - I must become stronger, so that I may avenge my father's death!" Lyn rose with a passion, coming perilously close to upending her untouched breakfast. "Yesterday's battle taught me something. I won't become stronger by sitting here alone. Amberyl, tell me you'll train me, that you'll let me travel with you!"

Amberyl made a little surprised 'oh' with her lips, regarding Lyn carefully. This wasn't a light request, and Amberyl was afraid that it was based entirely on a misunderstanding. She didn't have any experience with war. Or at least if she did, she didn't remember any of it. She had been running on instinct yesterday, from the half-truth that she could be useful as a tactician to her half-baked plan to distract Batta the Beast so Lyn had a better chance at defeating him. There was something, she admitted, that felt natural about reading the flow of battle, but that hardly meant she was worthy to lead Lyn around for training.

Amberyl pursed her lips. Sooner or later, she would remember who she was, and what she was doing in Sacae. But she had no idea how quickly that would happen. She couldn't wait around indefinitely for something to stir her recollection, but neither could she wander blindly into the grasslands and trust her luck to keep her safe. That Lyn would decide to leave with her, and go forth into the world as Amberyl - traveled? searched? wandered? - was the only way Amberyl was ever going to leave.

_You're going to feel awful if something happens to her because you're not who she thinks you are_, a nasty little voice in the back of her mind said. _What do you know about warfare and bloodshed? You got squeamish at the thought of killing a bandit. _Amberyl suppressed a shudder as she remembered the fighting yesterday. No matter how guilty the brigands had been, it wasn't a pleasant feeling to watch them die. But...

_I could do it again,_ Amberyl told herself silently. _And I would, if I had the chance. Doing what's right doesn't _have _to be pleasant._

_Especially if you're not the one who's doing it_, the nasty voice said.

Amberyl crammed the nasty voice away in an imaginary soundproof box. "Yes, Lyn. I think that would be an excellent idea."

"You will?" Lyn's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Suddenly Amberyl was swept up in Lyn's embrace. She squeaked in protest, thinking that Lyn was getting carried away. Probably because her own doubts undermined any excitement she might have felt at pairing up with Lyn for an adventure.

_I'll just have to make sure not to break Lyn's trust in me, _she decided, and pushed the matter aside. Dwelling on possibilities would only encourage indecision.

"We'll be better off working together, I know it," Lyn said. "You'll be my master strategist, and I'll be your peerless warrior!" She released Amberyl only so she could hold her out at arm's length. "We can do it! Right?"

Amberyl looked into Lyn's bright eyes and found herself infected. She realized that this moment, for Lyn, would be nothing short of world-changing. An extraction from the broken life of solitude she'd been left to live in the wake of her family's death and her tribe's shattering. Small wonder she was eager to accompany Amberyl wherever the wind blew them. She had to laugh. If she could say nothing else positive about her current situation, she was glad it had brought her here.

"Yes, Lyn, we most certainly can!"

* * *

Whew! Well, that's all for the prologue. Let me know what you think of it. I've got, like, super sensitive feelings, so don't flame me :l

... just kidding. Please share what you think, bearing in mind that I'm writing this story because I love the story itself, but also because I want to improve my writing ability and the only way to do that is through practice. I welcome tactful comments, constructive criticism, and even, if I must, oblivious jerks who don't realize how abrasive they are... But it would be ever so much nicer to hear how wonderful a start I've made. That would just flower up my day.


	2. Ch1: Footsteps of Fate

Hello!

My thanks to Sunswordred, Gunlord500, and GameFreakimage who've taken the time to review. I've responded PM style - which I think I'll continue doing, unless my update interval becomes obscenely short. ... So, unlikely.

* * *

"Amberyl! over here!"

Amberyl snapped out of her daze, searching for Lyn's distinctive blue tunic and deep sea hair. Her nomad friend was waving at her some distance down the road. She hurried to catch up.

"I thought you got lost," Lyn teased.

"I think I still am," Amberyl admitted, falling into step. Once they passed through the gates of the city, Amberyl's head was on swivel as she tried to drink in all the sights, looking for something that might be familiar. Lyn's call caught her peering at the wares of a jeweler merchant while wondering why that particular collection caught her eye. Was it because the shimmering myriad of multicolored beads held some greater significance to her past, or did she just like shiny things? She still hadn't remembered anything beyond basic life skills in the two days of travel to arrive here, but she hadn't given up trying. "This city is so large. I thought that maybe something here would... you know." She made a vague gesture. "Poof, it all comes back."

"Well, this is Bulgar, the biggest city in all Sacae," Lyn said, smiling. She seemed to enjoy showing off her homeland to Amberyl, who hung on her words very attentively. There had been precious little to actually see in the endless expanse of grass outside the city walls, but Lyn had filled that time with stories and lessons on daily life and, more importantly, survival tips for the plains. For instance, Amberyl had learned that there was a very distinct difference between two similar white-flowered plants. One had edible taproots but rash-giving leaves, and the other caused death. Crisis was narrowly avoided that night.

"We should purchase supplies for our journey," Lyn said, steering them in a direction that brought them closer to a more edibles-oriented area of the open market. Amberyl followed, taking a mental inventory of things she might want to have while out on the road.

Before leaving Lyn's home, she and Lyn examined all of their combined worldly possessions to determine what was worth taking and what ought to be left behind. Amberyl was surprised to discover that she'd had a decent sum of money when Lyn found her. The money may have discredited her theory that she'd been robbed by footprintless pixies, but did come in handy for the business of shopping. Amberyl had imagined that on top of everything else, she would have been penniless destitute as well.

For clothes, she had a pair of light brown doeskin leggings which fit comfortably well, and a well-tailored tunic of complimentary sand color. Her boots were soft leather, a darker brown, coming to the top of her calf, and she had the most delightfully embroidered green cloak to hide in. The overall effect was a fashionable yet comfortable outfit of subtle quality that, from a short distance away, looked completely unremarkable.

Less, of course, when coupled with her uncovered hair. Amberyl liked her copper-red waves of stuff that curled at her brow and the base of her neck, but quickly learned that red was not a common hair color in the plains.

Next to Lyn, whose deep green hair fell clearly to the small of her back after being swept high into a ponytail, and whose striking Sacaen face was framed perfectly with shorter bangs that softened the severity of her style, Amberyl couldn't believe that she was the conspicuous one.

_At least I don't feel _completely _outdone by Lyn_, she thought as she absently scanned the crowds.

She sighed, turning back to the business at hand as Lyn haggled down the price of some flatbread and spices. And who was she kidding? Lyn was a veritable goddess among lesser women. All those staring eyes weren't aimed at _her_. Maybe it was the way Lyn's thighs slipped out from the cut of her long Sacaen tunic as she sashayed down the streets.

"Oh, my heart! What a dazzling vision of loveliness!"

Amberyl jumped, her heart skipping a beat. Lyn was the only dazzling vision of loveliness in the market - someone had just set their sights on her, and Amberyl's instinct was to hide.

Lyn's response was the opposite. She raise her eyes from the purchase before her and step, perhaps unconsciously, between Amberyl and the curious origin of the call.

"Wait, oh fair and beauteous one!" the knight, or some such armored individual in green plate with white inlay swung from his horse before it had properly stopped. He landed with a flourish. "Would you not favor me with your name? Or better yet, your company?"

Was this man serious? And then, with trepidation, _Is this normal?_ Amberyl looked to Lyn, who did not appear amused.

"Where are you from, sir knight, that you speak so freely to a stranger?" Lyn's chilly note of warning sailed well beyond the armored man without finding it's mark.

"Ha! I thought you'd never ask!" And he performed a courtly bow, flipping his light brown hair into his darker earthen eyes. "I hail from Caelin canton, home to men of passion and fire!"

"Shouldn't that be "home to callow oafs with loose tongues"?" Lyn quipped without missing a beat, the chill descending into the frosty register.

"Ooooh..." The knight of Caelin would not be deterred. "You're even lovelier when you're cruel."

His outrageous attitude tickled Amberyl, but Lyn threw up her hands in disgust. Snatching the supplies she'd already purchased at the current stand, she turned to leave.

"Let's go, Amberyl. I've nothing more to say."

"Wait! Please..." His hand stretched dramatically after Lyn's retreating figure. Amberyl couldn't quite curtail her laughter. The strangled noise caught the Green Knight's attention, and his eyes shifted to her. _So much for inconspicuous background blending_, she thought as she whirled to follow Lyn. Still, she'd barely met his eyes.

"Sain! Hold your tongue!" a commanding tone once again made Amberyl jump. She paused at a nearby vendor to steal a backward glance. Another armored knight appeared, this one still mounted. His plate was differently colored, splashing crimson in the noonday sun, but its similar inlay and design suggested a common alliance between the two.

Amberyl couldn't help but steal another covert look. Probably not so covert. Amberyl had just rediscovered boys.

"Ah, Kent! My boon companion! Why so severe an expression?" the green knight, hailed as Sain by his companion, inquired grandly.

"If your manner were more serious, I wouldn't have to be so severe," Kent's voice was stern. "We still have a mission to complete, Sain!"

"I know that," this said longsuffering, "but how could I remain silent in the presence of such beauty? It would have been discourteous!"

"What do you know of courtesy!?"

A gentle hand touched her shoulder, and Amberyl jumped a third time. Lyn had returned for her, her look one of vague annoyance. _Hmm_. Amberyl's situational awareness, it seemed, was precipitously low. She would have to work on that.

"Sorry, I'll keep up."

"No, never mind," Lyn waved that aside. "We still have business in that direction, unless you plan on carrying your things with your bare hands." Lyn looked less than pleased that the direction she'd just indicated lay opposite the two arguing knights. She marched forward purposefully.

"Excuse me! You're blocking the road." Her injection cut through the knights' banter, both turning toward her. Lyn waved. "If you would be so kind as to move your horses..."

"Of course," the red knight, Kent, said. He nudged his horse, causing it to prance sideways and out of Lyn's way. "My apologies..."

"Thank you," Lyn sounded relieved. "You, at least, seem honorable."

_Ha, _Amberyl thought doubtfully. _He's just as smitten as his friend._ It would be her luck. She couldn't be imagining the speculative interest in Kent's eyes as he followed Lyn's figure. A prickling of jealous irritation poked under her skin. She didn't know why she bothered concerning herself with trying to remain inconspicuous. Her red hair might mark her as an outlander, but she could have grown a red beard to match and still gone unnoticed for all the attention Lyn received.

"Pardon me, but..." Kent accosted politely before she and Lyn edged all the way around them. Lyn paused as the crimson knight dismounted. There was a brief pause as the two simply looked at each other.

"I feel we've met before."

"I beg your pardon?" Lyn blinked, clearly nonplussed.

"Hey!" Sain stepped forward. "No fair, Kent! I saw her first!"

This time, Amberyl couldn't help but burst out laughing, for which Lyn gave her a withering glance and an impatient noise.

"It seems there are no decent men among Lycia's knights!" she said smartly. "Let's go, Amberyl! I'm out of patience."

"Wait, please!" Kent looked bewildered "It's not like that!"

But Lyn would have none of it. As she whisked away in Lyn's wake, Amberyl heard the two knights fall back to bickering.

Kent watched the two retreating females, scowling with irritation. One a striking beauty, lithe and alluringly garbed, and the other cloaked but also attractive. Small wonder Sain's questionable powers of restraint had been undone. Kent had expected trouble when he'd set out on this search with Sain; when it came to females, his friend could turn any situation into a fiasco. He'd just hadn't expected the situation to deteriorate before he'd had a chance to explain himself. He sighed in frustration.

"Sain, you lout!"

"Huh? Not like that?" Sain's expression was suspicious. "I thought you were..."

"I am notyou!" Kent bit out impatiently. Then he recovered himself with military control. "Come, we must follow her. I suspect she might be - " he broke off meaningfully.

"Be what?" Sain echoed, still distracted by retreating hips. Then his eyes widened. "Wait, she's our mission? You're joking!"

There was very little about Kent that was in the mood for joking. He gave Sain a flat look before leading his horse forward after the girls.

"Wait!"

* * *

Amberyl adjusted the shoulder straps of her new backpack, sulking as the city of Bulgar marched steadily into the distance.

After their encounter with the knights errant, Kent and Sain, Amberyl and Lyn had carried on with their business, to include purchasing something with which Amberyl could carry her share of their inventory. The delight she achieved from putting on an embroidered cloak every morning had hinted, but It was during her first shopping excursion that Amberyl realized just how much a slave to fashion she truly was.

What should have been a simple acquisition of a few moments became a grueling expedition that took the better part of an hour. Lyn was a very kind person and accommodated her at first, but Amberyl tested the limits of her patience.

Eventually, the perfect pack revealed itself. A light colored leather, embroidered handsomely with bright flowers in what must have been months of work from a very diligent hand. Lyn had called it a decoration, impractical for real use. Her own nondescript bag was perfectly adequate and suited for the road, she said. Another of the same type would work just as well.

Amberyl would not be dissuaded. One glance at Lyn's personal attire, brightly colored and figure-flattering, was enough to tell her that Lyn's real objection was the price. There was no way Lyn actually disapproved of such an object of beauty. Her decision made, she shut down Lyn's opposition with finality. Unfortunately, the shopkeeper observed her attachment to what was still his and inflated his price. Amberyl learned a valuable lesson this day. Something about self-restraint, prudence... the virtues of silence... She didn't really want to think about it.

_If I were smarter, I wouldn't have revealed my attachment before I bought it_, Amberyl brooded. _And if I were stupider, I would at least be able to convince myself it was Lyn's fault._ So summarized, Amberyl concluded then that she was smart enough to realize she was stupid.

She was being petulant, but for the hefty price of her self-respect as a haggler and an ungodly share of her money, Amberyl decided she could afford to sulk for at _least _another hour.

"Amberyl." Lyn's voice pulled her back to the present. Amberyl grunted uninvitingly, but Lyn gripped her arm with urgency.

"What's the matter?" Amberyl asked. Lyn was looking behind them. Amberyl followed her gaze and discovered two men on the road. And not just any men, she noticed. These men were running, carrying weapons, and headed straight their way. Amberyl stomach drop. "Oh. That's..." She took a step backward. "We should probably..."

"Run!" Lyn agreed, whirling. Amberyl followed after her lead, dashing up the road. The plains, it seemed, were a more hazardous place than even her encounter at Lyn's home had led her to believe. Bulgar hadn't even faded completely from view. Lyn's glowing commentary of Sacae had not given her the impression that they would encounter more bandits so quickly.

_Even so, what better place to waylay travelers than the road into or out of the city?_ The thought popped into her head. _You should have expected this._

Lyn glanced back at her, slowing slightly. Just as before, she would outpace Amberyl if she didn't moderate her speed. That was galling enough to goad Amberyl to sacrifice her new great love. She threw down her backpack and put on a burst of speed. When that wasn't enough, she unclasped her cloak and let that fall away, too.

"Are there any towns this way?" Amberyl asked, considering their options. If they could find a populated area, the men would probably break off their pursuit. Lyn and herself would no longer be targets of opportunity.

"Nothing close," Lyn answered. Then she frowned, her eyes lingering. That was probably her realizing that flight - at least away from Bulgar - was pointless if they couldn't rely on outpacing the bandits indefinitely. That option may have been available to Lyn, but Amberyl's stamina wouldn't last.

"Then we should try to evade them in the trees and circle back to Bulgar." Amberyl pointed off the road at the nearest obstruction of foliage. Lyn nodded, and they left the road to veer in that direction.

"Could it be the knights from town?" Lyn wondered aloud. Amberyl glanced back. At this distance, it was difficult to make out features, but their pursuers were definitely not in armor. Or on horses. While it was possible the knights had ditched their gear for the sake of anonymity, they'd be unlikely to chase a target on foot if they didn't have to. "I don't think so."

"No, it's not them," Lyn agreed. "These men are out for blood."

"Well they certainly aren't... interested in our stuff," Amberyl observed. The men passing her discarded things without slowing. "If they knew how much money was lying right there in the road... they wouldn't bother chasing us anymore."

Amberyl's foot struck a divot while looking back and she flailed to catch her balance. Only the fact that Lyn unexpectedly stopped, giving Amberyl a solid surface to grab onto, saved her from falling.

"What's up?" Amberyl panted, steadying herself on Lyn's arm. Lyn said nothing, disengaging herself from Amberyl's grasp so she could draw her sword. Amberyl glanced backward again, noting that their pursuers hadn't slowed. "Lyn..."

Then she noticed the three figures emerging from the same trees she and Lyn were going to hide in. If her stomach had dropped before, it leapt uncomfortably high now. Two Lyn could handle. She'd done it before, albeit one at a time. Five? Unlikely.

"We can still run," Amberyl suggested, her breath short. It was still their best option. The decision had to be made quickly; her headache was starting to surface now that she'd stopped. Three days was not a long time when it came to concussions. Amberyl closed her eyes and willed herself to remain strong. "Or attack. We could attack. Before they all group up. Starting with the two who chased us. They'd be at least as winded as we are."

As plans go, it was the best she could come up with on short notice. It might have even worked. But Amberyl was too unsure of herself to issue her suggestion as a command, and Lyn was too wary to turn her back on three enemies to engage with two more. The moment of opportunity slipped by, and soon the bandits had them loosely surrounded.

Five armed bandits were more than enough to deal with a sword maiden and an amnesiac. Amberyl didn't like their odds. It _might _be possible for Lyn to fight off her share of enemies and escape, but not if she was trying to protect someone. The best scenario she could envision, surrounded as they were, had Lyn escaping alone.

"There were so many different ways to avoid this," Amberyl muttered.

"What?" Lyn asked.

"I said, we should stall them with talking. Everyone likes to talk. Talking is a great alternative to dying. Or, ah, fighting."

Lyn's grip tightened on her sword. She didn't like the idea of talking with bandits, it seemed.

Amberyl turned so she could keep her eyes on the two men who advanced on them from behind. They had stopped, hovering a short distance away, cutting off escape but not pushing in for the kill.

_They must not be the leaders_, Amberyl thought. That meant one of the other three was in charge, but she couldn't tell at a glance which one it might be.

All five of the men bore remarkable resemblance to one another. And, if she thought about it, to the two men she and Lyn had encountered near Lyn's home. They were all angry, greedy men with the same hostile looks on their face and in their stance. Individualizing characteristics faded from Amberyl's perception as each of the men threatening her took on the same looming appearance. They were all bad guys.

Without lowering her weapon, Lyn issued her challenge to the three men who cut off their escape. "Who are you, and why have you pursued us?"

One stepped forward, the others looking toward him. Amberyl stared at him, trying to distinguish him from his fellows by anything other than physical location. _This is stupid_, she thought. The Bad Guy Thug presence was so powerful it obliterated everything else. _He's bigger than the others_, she decided eventually. _He's got a scar. And he hasn't shaved in days... He's got a scraggly beard_. That was it.

Amberyl was sure Scragglebeard Scarfaceguy would be devastated if he knew she'd boiled his person down to those three traits.

"Aren't you a pretty one?" Scragglebeard leered, a dark laugh rumbling in his burly chest. His eyes appraised Lyn's battle stance hotly. A shiver rad down Amberyl's spine. The bandit pointed at Lyn with his axe. "Your name is Lyndis, is it not?"

Lyn inhaled sharply. "What did you call me?"

Scragglebeard smiled broadly, satisfied, and said nothing. Amberyl glanced over her shoulder. Standing as she was to protect Lyn's back, she could only see Lyn's face in profile. _Lyndis? _It wasn't the name she knew Lyn by. Then it quickly dawned on Amberyl that Lyndis would be the real name, with Lyn being a shorthand. And if the bandits knew Lyn's name - her real name - then they must have been looking for her specifically.

"Who are you?" Lyn repeated dangerously. Scragglebeard ignored her, shaking his head.

"Such a waste. An absolute waste," he mourned, shaking his head. Then the wicked grin was back. "The things I do for gold."

_That_ confirmed it. "They've been hired to kill us," Amberyl supplied helpfully. "_Us _being a relative term. I think you're their actual target. I'm just a package deal."

Lyn spared her a flat look. "This is serious, Amberyl. There are more than I can handle."

"Oh, I know it's serious," Amberyl whispered back. "I'm trying to avoid thinking about it. That's why I've resorted to gallows humor. It's a healthy analogue - ah, alternative to fear. I would suggest it, but you seem to be doing alright."

Lyn didn't respond, her concentration on the threat at hand. The fire was back in her eyes, the same look as two days ago, when she sallied forth and killed two men. Amberyl nudged her to get her attention back.

"Lyn, you can still get out of this. Probably. They're not after me. If you made a break for it, you could get away and I might even be able to escape while they chase you."

"They would capture you," Lyn said with a shake of her head. "And use you against me."

"I'm trying to convince you to escape anyway," Amberyl murmured. "But since - "

Scragglebeard shouldered his axe, pointing. "Time to die, darlin'!" he roared. Lyn raised her sword. Her eyes flashed.

"I'll not give up!"

"C'mon, boys!" Scragglebeard waved his minions forward. Apparently, he wasn't too eager to test Lyn's defenses personally.

Bodies surged forward from all directions, and Amberyl tensed up in preparation for - for - she didn't know._ Duck, roll, spring, run - No - left, jump, weave - That won't work - Just - Oh - _And it was all expletives from there as she drew her knife.

* * *

"There she is!"

Heads swiveled towards the direction of the cry, which belonged to none of the bandits. Amberyl was already committed to her responsive attack, springing forward under the outstretched axe of her nearest assailant. He grunted his displeasure as she rammed her shoulder into his belly.

This proved less effective than she'd hoped it would be. The bandit's balance rocked but not enough to knock him over. His hands dragged across her back as she shifted her momentum. _Why are bad guys always so big?_ She managed to evade his grasp by flinging herself in a roll through the grass.

Amazingly, Lyn was there to pull her to her feet.

"What?" Amberyl's intelligent inquiry. Lyn wasn't looking at her.

The bandits were retreating. Not fleeing, Amberyl noted, which would have been more than she could have hoped for, but definitely putting space between themselves and their prey. And between them, with armor glinting red and green in the high noon sun and mounted on a pair of glorious warhorses, were Kent and Sain.

"Finally caught up," Sain said, grinning broadly in their direction before turning his attention to the bandits. They were still inching away from the imposing knights, despite their greater numbers. "Hold!" Sain's tone rang with command. He leveled an iron-tipped lance at Scragglebeard.

Apparently, his discernment of bandit hierarchies was more perceptive than Amberyl's and required no introduction.

"You there! What is your business? Such numbers against a pair of girls?" Sain scoffed. "Cowards, every one of you!"

"You!" Lyn stepped forward. "You're from - "

"We can discuss that later," Kent cut in, sword in hand. He drew even with Sain on his charger. "It appears these ruffians mean to do you harm. If it's a fight they want, let them look to me!"

"Stand back!" Sain cried, hefting his lance. "I'll take care of this!"

Amberyl thought she might swoon. Lyn, on the other hand, still looked primed for a fight. She wasn't going to jump back into the fray, was she?

"No!" Lyn shouted. "This is my fight! Stay out of my way!"

"What?" Amberyl demanded shrilly. _Her fight? _Was she trying to gain experience points or something? Amberyl siezed Lyn's arms. "Lyn! You said it yourself, there's more than you can handle. I know you want to get stronger, but this is not the way to go about doing it!"

Lyn opened her mouth as if to retort, but shut it with a scowl instead. Her eyes roved over the men who moments ago were intent on killing her. Who were probably still intent on killing her.

"There's nothing to be gained by fighting by yourself," Amberyl reasoned.

Lyn nodded, exhaling. "Of course."

"Well," Sain's drew the word out unhappily, searching for attention. "I can't just stand here and do nothing."

"You don't have to do nothing," Amberyl said quickly. She shot Lyn a glance. "Lyn - I - We just don't really know who you are, or why you're here. Not that we mind that you're here. We don't. We really like you here. Things were getting a - Ah, Anyway, we just want to know who you are, and what you're - what your intentions are." _Hmm. I'm starting to babble again. _To be expected, she supposed, after Lyn almost gave her a heart attack.

"I am Kent, a knight of Lycia," the red knight said in answer. "My companion is Sain. We will follow your orders in this battle. Is this acceptable, milady?"

"Yes, it is," Lyn answered, before Amberyl could decline the honor. She grimaced. Kent wasn't _serious_ about that, was he? _Even if he's not, Lyn is_, Amberyl thought. She hadn't realized what she was getting into when she signed on to be Lyn's 'Peerless Tactician.'

"Amberyl and I will lead!" Lyn looked to her.

"Wait." Amberyl rubbed her temples, feeling that damned headache. The bandits had regained their poise. Under Scragglebeard's gruff command, they were spreading out to re-encircle their prey. Amberyl wished Kent and Sain had taken the opportunity to thin the bandit's numbers when their attention was diverted. Not that she was about to complain...

"Milady?" Kent prompted. Amberyl looked his way. Kent was focusing entirely on the approaching enemy. She had the distinct impression that he was waiting for her to give them the order to charge, and have done. She scowled.

"Lyn is a capable fighter," she said almost defensively. "If you separate one from the pack with a well-placed attack, she can take him. Start on the right. Just focus on splitting them up for now. They'll probably break and run after the first two or three get - are taken out."

Kent's brows raised, and Sain tilted his head. Lyn, thankfully, just nodded as if that's exactly what she expected to issue from Amberyl's mouth.

"Let's go!"

Sain led the charge, his lance sheering the wind and encouraging the bandits to make way. Kent followed at his flank with Lyn close behind, anticipating a straggler to be caught on the wrong side of the bearing knights.

Amberyl had hoped the charge would cause the bandits to split, but Kent and Sain were more skilled than that. They plunged straight into the middle of the five bandits where Sain's lance found flesh, sending one man careening to the ground not to rise again. Kent's sword swept in an arc that jarred another man's axe from his hands. No, it _struck_ his hand, Amberyl realized, covering her mouth. He had no chance to rearm himself before Lyn was upon him. Seconds after the first charge, two bandits were dead, two had split left, and the last had gone right.

"Bloody hell!" someone swore in a high pitched voice.

Kent and Sain wheeled, and everyone paused briefly to take in what had transpired. Lyn angled her steps towards the lone bandit who seemed to realize there were now three enemies between himself and his remaining comrades. Kent and Sain took up a new charge at the remaining two, and Amberyl stood stupefied.

In the blink of an eye, two living men had become... not living men.

"Accursed knights," Scragglebeard growled, planting his feet to meet the knights' charge, one of the two to have gone left. He did not sound pleased at this turn of events. His superior numbers were no more, and it seemed that _all _of his numbers were about to go in that same direction. "Always tampering in others' affairs."

"Tampering in the affairs of miscreants and villains, perhaps!" Sain rejoined, rising in his stirrups to strike. Scragglebeard evaded the attack, but found no opportunity to counter as Kent thundered by and nearly took his head. Amberyl found herself holding her breath.

"B... Bloody hell," Amberyl echoed the cry weakly. Any one of them could be hurt - killed - at any time. This was a real _battle_, and victory meant death to the opposition.

Amberyl glanced at the fallen bodies. She pressed the fingers still covering her mouth until they stopped trembling. _Stop that_, she scolded. _You look ridiculous. You're party to this._

_I can't help it_. _Do they have to die?_ A heartbeat's reflection brought the answer. _Yes. Otherwise, they'll report back that they failed to kill Lyn._

Amberyl struggled with herself. _They deserve this. They were going to kill Lyn. They were going to kill _you. But they hadn't set out to kill her. Amberyl's death was to be incidental.

"Because that makes it so much better," she muttered.

Amberyl looked to Lyn, who stalked her target with patience. Then, suddenly, she had an epiphany. While it was _possible_ that Lyn could take a bandit in a fair fight, that was no guarantee that she would do so unharmed - or - or even at all.

Amberyl flashed back to the two kills Lyn had made since she met her. With the first Lyn had had the advantage of surprise. The second, Amberyl had served as a distractor. The element of surprise was nowhere to be found today, but Amberyl could still do something about creating a distraction. She took one step in Lyn's direction before she had a better idea.

"Sain!" Amberyl pointed in Lyn's direction when Sain's head turned towards the sound of her voice. Sain caught sight of Lyn circling her opponent, and dipped his head in acknowledgement of Amberyl's order.

"Straightaway!" he tossed happily over his shoulder. Amberyl saw Kent's attention shift to his departing fellow. He backed off his own assault on Scragglebeard and his companion while waiting for Sain to return.

* * *

Kent noted Sain's departure. He was tempted to ride with him, just to keep a coherent formation, but decided to loiter near the two bandits he and Sain engaged to block their movement. They glared hatefully at him, spitting obscenities, but he didn't allow them close enough to be a danger. There wasn't any way they could flee before Sain finished his business with the lone bandit dueling the lady Lyndis and returned. Kent was prepared to wait.

"Kent!" the red-haired girl flagged him with waving arms.

Kent frowned. The girl waved again, then pointed towards Sain. Was she just advising him of the fact that she'd taken away his companion in the middle of the battle? He'd noticed.

"Wench," One of the bandits growled, starting in her direction. Red-hair noticed it, and her eyes grew as big as saucer plates. Kent wheeled his horse to intercept the bandit's path, but changed his mind and angled towards the girl herself instead.

"They've noticed that you're unprotected," Kent said as he drew near her. "You should withdraw to a safer location."

She looked at him blankly. Then she covered her face with her hands. "Lyn's going to be upset with me."

"Upset?" Kent echoed. He tried to understand how that statement was a direct response to his suggestion. "Why? What have you done?"

"I sent Sain to help her with her bandit," Red-hair moaned. "She's going to think I don't believe she can fight."

Kent shook his head. "Nonsense. The use of superior numbers in combat is basic battle strategy."

"We'll see if that works," Red-hair muttered darkly. Kent decided not to try to decipher her strange conversation. The bandits were drawing too close. Kent held out his hand.

"Come, I'll take you."

Red-hair's mounting was an awkward thing, as if she'd never ridden a horse before. Kent resorted to pulling her up with an apology before her antics delayed them too long.

"I'm sorry for stealing your friend in the middle of battle," she said. "But I suddenly realized that there wasn't any good reason to leave Lyn fighting by herself. Then I realized I'd just put you in the same situation, but with more enemies."

"As is my duty," Kent replied without hesitation. "We're here to protect the Lady Lyndis and yourself, so yours was a wise decision." The words came reflexively, but he considered them truthful. He hadn't expected this girl's presence of mind to encompasses adaptive strategy in these circumstances. He'd already been surprised that her initial battle plan had been so workable. He'd offered the lady Lyndis tactical command as an olive branch to overcome the resistance she seemed to possess in accepting his and Sain's presence, but he hadn't anticipated a forthcoming strategy for dealing with five bandits in a grassy field. It was almost silly to suggest.

The only real question was how Lyndis would coordinate with them in the skirmish, yet that was the single point that Red-hair had addressed. He considered praising her handling of the situation while he had the chance, but... She was glaring at him. Suspiciously. Something he said?

"I beg your pardon, but I don't believe I have your name."

"Amberyl. It's Amberyl. And I think Sain is coming back."

* * *

With Lyn, Sain, and Kent all working together, the final two bandits didn't last long. Scragglebeard was the last to fall, waving his axe madly to ward off enemies from all sides. In the end, Amberyl averted her eyes from what seemed to her almost a pathetic death. She shouldn't feel sympathy for her would-be killers, but watching someone struggling against their impending doom stirred chords within her. The memory of having been in that same situation just moments ago was powerful.

Lyn, on the other hand, didn't share her reservations. "That's the last of them," she exulted, wiping her blade on one of the fallen men's tunic's. "Fantastic work, Amberyl!"

"Please. You did all the work." Amberyl kept her voice light, determined not to let her squeamishness show. She wasn't against... doing what they did. She just didn't enjoy watching live people become dead. _Better them than us_, she concluded lamely.

"And now for these knights of Lycia." Lyn shifted her attention. "You were going to share your story with me?"

"Yes." Kent led them a little way from the dead bandits. "We have ventured from Caelin, in Lycia, in search of someone."

Amberyl took a step back, searching for the background again. She missed her cloak and the illusion of protection it gave her.

It hadn't escaped her attention that Kent had called Lyn "Lady Lyndis". Now that the threat of bandits had passed, she focused on the reality that Kent and Sain were strangers with an interest in Lyn. While their heroic intervention on Lyn's behalf suggested good intentions, they still knew nothing of the knights' motivations.

"Lycia." Lyn tasted the word. "That's the country beyond the mountains in the southwest, isn't it?"

Kent nodded. "Correct. We've come as messengers to the lady Madelyn, who eloped with a nomad some nineteen years ago."

"Madelyn?" Lyn echoed. She was visibly stunned.

"Our lord the marquess of Caelin's only daughter," Kent explained, either taking no notice of Lyn's reaction or choosing to ignore it. "He was heartbroken his own daughter would abandon him so. Eventually, the marquess simply declared that he had no daughter."

Sain picked up the story. "And then this year, we received a letter from Lady Madelyn. It said that she, her husband, and their daughter were living happily on the Sacae plains. The marquess was ecstatic to learn he had a granddaughter of eighteen years. I remember the smile on his face when he announced that he'd suddenly become a grandfather." Sain grinned briefly at the memory. Then he turned serious. "The granddaughter's name is Lyndis. This was also the name of the marquess's wife, who passed away at an early age."

"Lyndis?" Lyn echoed again. She'd been caught flat-footed, it seemed. She was usually a much better conversationalist.

Sain nodded. "That she would bear this name thawed the marquess's heart. Now, his only wish is to meet his daughter's family at least once. This is why we're here. We didn't know that lady Madelyn died a few days after sending her letter." Sain looked troubled. He glanced at his companion, Kent. "We only learned this shortly after we arrived here in Bulgar."

"But we also learned," Kent picked up, "all was not lost. Her daughter yet lives. We heard that she was living alone on the plains." Kent gave them a moment to digest that claim. He had all but plainly stated that Lyn was the Marquess's granddaughter.

Amberyl realized she was frowning and smoothed the expression away. _She_ had only known Lyn for three days. Kent could claim anything, and it would sound at least halfway plausible to her. But from the shock-still posture of her nomad friend, this was news to Lyn as well.

"I... I knew it immediately. You are the lady Lyndis."

"Why would you think that..." Lyn's protest was weak. Unfinished, even.

"Your resemblance to your departed mother is remarkable," Kent informed her gently.

"What?" Another surprise. "Did you know my mother?"

Kent shook his head. "I'm sorry to say I never met her directly, but I saw her portraits in Castle Caelin."

Lyn looked down at her empty hands, unseeing. She spoke softly. "To the rest of my Tribe, I was always Lyn. But when I was with my parents... When it was just the three of us, I was Lyndis." A strange smile ghosted her lips when she lifted her head.

"It's all so strange. I was all alone in the world, and now I have a grandfather."

Amberyl felt a small pang of envy. She was still alone - or, well, maybe not. But she didn't _know_ that she wasn't alone, and that pretty much amounted to the same thing. Then, in what had become a habit, she pinched herself by way of punishment. She should be glad for Lyn. And she still had hope that somewhere out there, she had a loving family. Maybe even a husband. Oh, great merciful saints, she might even have _children_.

"Lyndis." Lyn sighed. "I never thought I would hear that name again."

"Uhm." Amberyl could have sworn there was something she was supposed to remember right about now, but all that ricocheted around in her brain was the image of an itty-bitty person in her arms. Suckling. "Uhm..."

"Wait!" Lyn lifted a hand. "That bandit! He called me Lyndis, too!"

"That's right," Amberyl supplied, shaking herself from her daze. "They knew Lyn's real name."

"What?" Kent rocked back. "How could he have - " He broke off with a scowl, looking as if he'd just tasted something vile. Sain's expression wasn't any better.

"He was a henchman of Lord Lundgren, wasn't he?" he looked at where the bandits lay. They weren't in the position to share any secrets now.

Lyn crossed her arms. "Lundgren? Who's that?"

"He's the marquess's younger brother." Kent's voice seemed filled with disgust. "Everyone assumed the lady Madelyn was gone forever. This made lord Lundgren heir to the marquess's title."

"To be blunt, milady, your existence is an obstacle to your granduncle's ambitions," Sain concluded dryly.

Lyn sputtered. "That's - But I have no interest in inheriting any title!"

"Unfortunately, your granduncle is not the sort of man to believe that." Sain looked pained. "I believe the attempts on your life will persist."

Lyn looked helplessly at the knights. "What should I do?"

"Accompany us to Caelin." Kent gestured towards the dead. "Continuing on this way is dangerous."

Lyn's brow darkened, but she didn't aim her glare at Kent or Sain. Her frustration was unfocused, but plainly evident. "I feel I have little choice. I will go with you."

Amberyl walked beside Lyn as they retraced their steps towards Bulgar to recover Amberyl's discarded things. With any luck, she wouldn't have to chase down her cloak from wherever the wind had decided it should be, instead of where she'd dropped it. The pack, though. She would be glad to recover that.

Forced to choose between life and property, she had been able to discard her accessories without a thought... but now that her life wasn't in danger, they were _not_ moving on until she found them. Besides, her pack had lunch. And money. And all of her life's current possessions inside.

"Amberyl." Lyn emerged from her brooding.

"Mmm?"

They hadn't yet discussed this change in plans. Kent and Sain rode ahead, both ensuring that there were no more surprises to be had on the road, and to allow Lyn and Amberyl a moment of private discourse. Obviously, Lyn would have to accompany Kent and Sain to this Castle Caelin in Lycia. What wasn't obvious was what that meant for Amberyl. Lyn might have become a long-lost heir, but Amberyl was still a wandering amnesiac... tactician.

_With two victories_. Amberyl smiled. How absurd.

"I'm sorry," Lyn began. "This changes everything. What will you do, Amberyl?"

"That depends," Amberyl mused. Her thoughts drifted back to the vision of her might-be suckling baby child. A moment's reflection and some recollection of anatomy informed her she _couldn't _be some tiny person's mommy. But she could still be someone's daughter, wife, or sister.

Over the past three days, Amberyl had tried to avoid considering too closely just who she may have left behind when she came to collapse thoughtless on the Sacae plains. Mostly because it got her nowhere and caused her to worry. But also secretly because she was afraid that there wasn't anyone waiting for her to return.

That, of course, was a morbid thought that she refused to dwell on, and so she shoved the entire thing off her plate whenever it cropped up. Until she regained her memory, which could be done by things _other_ than meditating on family, she would be content to wait. Hopeful.

This, though. This new development where Lyn traveled to Lycia with a couple of knights to inherit a throne - or something like that, Amberyl still wasn't clear on the details - this changed... nothing?

"Depends?" Lyn considered her. "On what?"

"Whatever you decide."

"You want me to decide?" Lyn asked, taken aback.

"Sure." Amberyl squinted against the sun, scanning for her things. Hmm. Since Kent and Sain knew what she was looking for, maybe they'd find them first. In fact, why hadn't she just sent them out for that in the first place? That would have been forward thinking. But as long as they were headed back to Bulgar, perhaps a bath was in order. She had worked up a sweat running from those bandits, and she was sure at between them all, one of Lyn, Kent, or Sain had to be sporting bandit blood they'd rather wash off.

"I think, if I had to, I could make do on my own." Amberyl waved at Sain, who, far in the distance, held her pack aloft. "But I really don't see any reason to part ways just yet. I'm a wanderer without a destination, if you recall."

Lyn smiled, but her sincere look remained hesitant. "Of course, your companionship would do much to ease my journey, but... It's going to be so dangerous."

"I think the safest place for me to be," Amberyl countered, "Is with the mighty lady Lyndis, and her two dashing knights in shining armor."

Lyn laughed. The worry receded from her gaze. "You'll come? Are you sure?"

"You know I have an aversion to giving straight answers, Lyn," Amberyl teased. "Don't make me say 'Yes' more clearly than I already have."

"Thank you!" Lyn's brilliant smile lit up an already bright day. She looked like she might fling her arms around Amberyl again, just like the day she and Amberyl set out from her little home on their less-than-defined journey. She restrained herself, however, clasping her hands instead. "Let me ask once again for your friendship and your aid."

"Don't be daft, Lyn." Amberyl caught her arm, and pulled her in. Lyn seemed to be under the impression that Amberyl wasn't the touchy-feely type. And perhaps she wasn't, but the moment seemed to warrant a warm hug. "You didn't have to ask."

* * *

Phew!

Alright, I didn't want to tamper with your immersion (if, I hope, I could immerse you!) before you began.

As I think I've said before, I'm trying to hammer out a writing style over the course of this Fire Emblem story. It's going to be a long time in the making, but some of the things I'm working on are:

~ trying to figure out how to par down all mah crap so it's not s'damn long.

~ figuring out what I do/add that's completely unnecessary and just slows things down or detracts from the story/mood/focus at hand

~ trying to keep perspective on how much I DONT need to inject my OC into every sentence/paragraph/everything, even when the content is from her perspective

~ how to not be a slave to previously conceived plans/vision that I've held on to for years

~ how to be more determinate in my plot/character/nuance choices

~ how to keep relationship drama to a minimum when/if detracts from current plot/mood

I appreciate feedback on my writing. Whatever pops into your head, or perhaps if one feels particularly critique-y one could point out where in this chapter I've overlooked the application of my short list of goals here (which I wrote in the course of 5 minutes, so if there's something else that jumps out at you... you just let me know). I would never turn away from a positive review, tho'. Don't forget, we all love those. (Alternatively, I don't expect or require reviews from all my readers. I have other things that boost my self-esteem. This is me not applying peer pressure on you to review!)

And before I forget: I've obviously massaged the dialogue and chapter mechanics in this chapter to get them to fit with something I envisioned. I think that's going to become pretty standard. It's the running joke about how the boss-guy sends his minions in to die one by one instead of gang-rushing the heroes with all his forces - I'm going to poke things like that until they feel less like the enemy is scripted AI. In the chapter, Scragglebeard Scarfaceguy should have spouted his nonsense and then run away to the top corner of the map; his dudes should have spread out and waited to get picked off one at a time. That's just silly.

Also, I don't have to worry about supports in Lyn's tale, but... Sooner or later, I think I might open the floor to see who's interested in seeing what pairings. Something to think about. This *will* be quite the romantic tale, eventually (see above goal concerning drama).


End file.
